


Faithfully

by RoseColoredDreams



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Heartbreak, The Last Kingdom (Netflix), The Last Kingdom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-09-01 13:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseColoredDreams/pseuds/RoseColoredDreams
Summary: Life with a warrior of Wessex was not easy. Living with Leofric was not always pleasant. But there was no living if it was not with him.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Appalled at the lack of fanfiction for the Last Kingdom, I've taken it upon myself to write some.  
> This Leofric series is essentially a compilation of drabbles of domestic life with him. Enjoy!  
> (Based upon the Netflix series)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leofric returns home to a welcoming wife. 
> 
> * Edited since posting *

Leofric was a good husband, but he was a warrior first.

Having to accept that he was both hers _and_ Alfred’s was not always easy, particularly on cold mornings like this. Raia would rather have the bare arms of her husband to keep her warm, than all the furs and quilts of Wessex. 

In the wee hours of the morning, when the longing for him would not allow her to sleep, she would think back on their wedding night. He had been quick to light a fire, and disrobe himself to his breeches, but he took his time with her. He was eager, but refined, and patient, like he had been trained on the battlefield.

He’d kissed every inch of her: her lips, the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck, down her belly and to her thighs, and then all the way back up. His hands were adept, large enough to cover her, yet gentle enough to please her.

Had it really only been two years with him? It seemed she could not remember a time when she did not love him.

She knew nothing of a man until that night, though she knew Leofric had an eye for women long before meeting her.

Raia had come to work under the Queen Aelswith as a handmaiden, and this is where she caught the eye of the King’s right-hand man. He tried at first to ignore her when she was around, but could not pass up smiling at her. His towering stature was a little intimidating, but his soft words opened her up.

Damn how she craved him.

Some nights she cried herself to sleep worrying herself over him, missing him, _needing_ him.

She’d asked Aelswith how she dealt with the absence of Alfred, to which the Queen took her hands and replied, “I pray God protects him, and I pray for peace within myself. You should do the same.”

Raia rolled over in their bed, pulled the covers up, and prayed until she drifted back to sleep.

***

For such a burly man, he could be quiet when he wanted. He did not let the door slam, nor his weapons rattle, his armor was laid quietly aside, all the while his eyes were locked on the figure under the furs. He sauntered over to the bed, and ever so gently pulled them back to view his wife. 

He liked seeing her as she slept, for she was so beautiful, yet so unaware. Her dark hair framed her pale face, and those long lashes kissed her rosy cheeks. He almost felt bad waking her, because to do such would be to disturb a masterpiece. 

His fingers trailed along her cheek, and her eyes fluttered open, and it took her a moment before she realized who he was.

She sat up and immediately pulled him down next to her on the bed, pressing her lips to his. She twisted so that her arms went around his broad shoulder, tugging as if she could not get close enough. 

“Hello to you, too, wife,” he grinned against her, gathering her onto his lap.

“I’ve missed you,” she breathed, her fingers running through his chopped hair.

He snorted, “I couldn’t tell.”

She laughed with him and kissed him once more before pulling herself back. “You must be tired. Relax, please. Let me undress you.”

“I should be saying that to you, don’t you think?” His calloused hands ran along the sides of her thighs, bringing a warm flush to her cheeks, but she took them in her own and kissed his palms.

“There will be time for that,” she assured, “You’ve had quite the journey. Let me do this for you.”

He grinned, but nodded and allowed her off his lap. “As you wish…” 

He knew she liked to cleanse him, but never the reason why. It was an odd custom, perhaps a handmaiden’s custom, but whatever the reason, he would allow it. Perhaps it made her feel useful.

“I cannot have a filthy warrior stinking up my bed,” she teased as she unlaced his tunic from the back. He reached behind him to grab at her thigh, earning a thump to the back of the head. “Behave!”

She pulled the tunic over his head, and cast it aside. She then began to work the knotted muscles at the base of his neck, pressing her thumbs just below his ears and retreating downward to his shoulders. She pressed and squeezed the tense muscles there, kneading the skin as she would dough. Her hands moved along the square of his back, rubbing out any soreness with the heel of her hand. She would drop her head as she did this, and kiss his neck.

She had been blessed to marry such a strong man.

Her hands trailed along his ribcage, lightly brushing over any bruises, and then her nimble fingers trickled down his side and rested just above the soft flesh of his hip. She gave him a light squeeze, and the muscles of his loins twitched. He cast a glance over his shoulder at her, well aware of her intentions. 

A grin spread across her face, and she had him move from the bed to the hearth, where she poured a warm bowl of water and began to cleanse where the sweat still clung to him. She did this gently, continuing to massage as she went. 

She massaged the flesh of his arms, working her hands one over the other, all the way to the tips of his fingers. She brought them up for inspection and gave his hand a light kiss and a playful nip on the finger. He was dying to put them to use, she could tell.

She straddled his lap and continued to clean him, ignoring his growing arousal beneath her ever so coolly. He was a diligent man, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of knowing _just_ how aroused he was. Instead, he held her loosely, one arm around her waist, the other on the small of her back, and let her touch him as she pleased.

"I have missed these eyes," she whispered, planting a kiss over each of them. She then pressed herself flush against him, and murmured lowly in his ear, "Now remove your trousers."

The grin he gave her was a wicked one, but he obliged. "As you wish."

She slid off his lap and rinsed her rag as he unlaced his breeches and pulled them off his ankles. He stood, letting the full weight of his arousal drop between his legs, tempted to just have her there in front of the hearth, but if anything, he was patient. The look in her eyes when she turned to see him fully undressed was worth it. She got on her knees, ignoring his blatant erection, and she started by cleaning his feet, moving slowly to his calves. Her hand traveled up his thigh, massaging just below his hip, where the taut muscles of his loins jerked in anticipation. She couldn't help but smirk.

Blessed she was, indeed.

“Am I worthy of your bed yet, or are you going to scrub off my hide?” He asked impatiently.

She stood, reaching just below his chin, her hands lightly dancing over his cock, causing his jaw to clench. “You are always worthy.”

“Let’s not linger,” he suggested as he slipped a finger under her jaw, “it’s much too cold.”

“I want to make you feel good. You deserve it,” she said, but as she made to move past him he grabbed her arm.

“So do you,” he whispered lowly, and suddenly he snatched her up, delighting at her squeals, and then tumbled onto the bed with her. “You've got the patience of a saint, but thank God you don’t have the chastity of one.”

He pulled her gown away, trailing his lips where it had once been. His hands roamed her body freely, rediscovering her curves, and squeezing her soft flesh. He captured her mouth against his as he hovered above her, covering her body with his. He lived to feel her against him, breasts heaving, hands tugging, lips following his. Her hips pressed desperately to his, seeking to ease her own arousal.

This was a familiar devotion, but a different kind of worship.

He did not hesitate to push into her, only pausing to allow her time to adjust. Her head fell backward, and he took this opportunity to kiss at her throat, sucking and nipping, whispering "I love you" in between. 

She held onto his shoulders for support, and he tucked one arm under her hips and braced himself on the other. He may have been a great warrior, but he was a damn fine lover when it all came down to it.

His body rocked with hers, moving deeper and deeper into her with every roll of his hips. Her back arched, pressing herself flush against him, searching for release. She clawed at his shoulders, urging him to quicken his pace, but instead, he paused

A despicable smirk spread across his lips, and he pulled out of her abruptly, causing her to let out an indignant whine.

"You're too much of a tease, woman," he scolded as he cupped her heat, thumbing at her clit. She reached between her legs to grab at his hands, forcing him to rub harder. He chuckled at her desperation and kissed her. She bit his lip to spite him, but this only riled him more. 

"You're torture on your poor husband...," murmured into her jawline, only to pull away. He removed his hand and held her hips down, and in one hard thrust entered her again. She winced and her legs drew up around him, her hands tugging at his hair. "You'll have to suffer the consequences." He thrust into her once more, before setting a quicker pace. 

After weeks of listening to the grumbling of men, her whines were like music to his ears. He rutted into her hips, enjoying every sound that fell from her mouth, and he did not stop until he felt her clench around his cock and come to her climax. He came to his own release and pulled her snugly to him and kissed every inch of skin he could.

The forming bristles along his chin made her giggle, and she secured her arms around his neck, reveling in the warmth that was her husband. 

“If it is you I must suffer, I’ll do it gladly,” she whispered.


	2. Part II

The wedding of Mildrith to a heathen pagan had been the talk of Winchester, though Raia could not reason why. Would this not bring him closer to knowing God?

Leofric, who respected this Dane, assured her it would not.

“It would be equivalent to me asking you to convert to their pagan ways,” he explained over dinner one evening, “it would not be done simply, if at all.”

“He won’t...harm her...will he?” Raia asked. She only knew Uhtred from what her husband told her, and while Leofric respected him, he was not afraid to discuss how pig-headed he was.

He looked up at his wife, who was genuinely concerned for the poor wife-to-be, and smiled. “Uhtred may be Godless, but outright barbaric, he is not. I cannot imagine that living with him will be easy, though.”

They would get to witness this firsthand, as both of them were “invited” to Oxton after the wedding. The ride had been long, and tiresome, and only grew more bitter after Uhtred found out about his new wife’s debt to the Church.

Arranged marriages were always tough to work through in the beginning, as a handmaid, Raia would know. Uhtred may not have been a barbarian, but he was putting forth no effort to make himself likeable.

When Leofric had joined her in the upper room of the barn that evening, she looked at him with a new appreciation. He may have been a little rough around the edges, and not always mindful of manners, but one thing she was sure of was that his love for her was genuine. 

He sat at the edge of the bed, his back to her, and kicked off his boots. 

“Thank you,” she blurted without thinking.

He grunted and looked over his shoulder at her.

“What I meant to say…” she hesitated, for fear of sounding stupid, “I meant to say, thank you...for loving me like you do.”

He grinned, and continued undressing. “I need no thanks, love." He tossed his shirt to the floor, and then cast her a questioning glance, "Why do you say that?" 

She shrugged and laid back against the pillows, toying with a strand of her hair. "According to what I've witnessed, some marriages can be a loveless binding." 

"You're referring to the newlyweds, no doubt," he chuckled, "They'll figure it out, one way or another." He then rolled over to her, and pulled her close to him, "Now come 'ere and keep me warm." 

***

Over the coming weeks, as Uhtred grew softer to his wife, she and Raia became friends, in a way. Raia performed her handmaid duties for Mildrith, and all the while they talked of their husbands. Raia never envied the love between Mildrith and Uhtred, for while it had grown, it was nothing like loving Leofric. But when Mildrith announced she was with child, she found a new insecurity.

She had yet to bear Leofric any children, and she feared she would never. At the beginning of their marriage, she had conceived, but lost it before ever showing. It had taken Leofric hours to calm her down that day, and she had yet to conceive, since.

When her monthly came, she felt a pang of guilt. A sign she had failed, yet again. Her husband deserved a child, and she could not provide.

As if to mock her, the blood came to her only a few days after Mildrith's announcement. Leofric and Uhtred were away, and with no idea of when her husband would be back, she was free to suffer openly. She could cry - or curse - as much as she wanted in the privacy of the barn, and Mildrith was too naive to see her misery. 

At the end of this cycle, she went to wash, and this is when Leofric returned.

He'd gone off in search of his wife - and to avoid the heated argument about the new Pagan queen - and came upon her at the far end of a pond. Her back was to him, so she was unaware of his approach. He figured he'd found her at the perfect time, considering her nudity, but stopped short upon hearing her sobs.

“Raia?” He called to her, surprising her so that she turned to him, eyes red rimmed and brimming with tears.

His heart lurched, “Raia, what’s wrong?”

Without hesitation, he pulled off his chain mail, cast his sword aside, kicked off his boots, and waded out to where she was.

She wiped furiously at her eyes, "Leofric...please don't...I'm unclean and I-" 

He ignored her. “What's wrong? What’s the matter?” His hand hooked around her elbow, but she jerked away. "Has someone done something to you?"

"N-no," she whimpered, and shook her head.

He stood there, waist deep in water, dumbfounded. "Well then what is it? What can I do-"

" _Mildrith is pregnant._ " She slapped the surface of the water. "With a _pagan's_ child, no less."

It took him a moment, but he quickly realized the cause for her frustration. He had not forgotten the night of their loss, waking up to her screams, cleaning the blood from her thighs. He'd spent hours rocking her, trying to soothe her. She thought she had hidden her guilt from him, but he could see right through her. 

She would cast her eyes away whenever they passed a mother with a newborn. She would rest her cheek against his shoulder, hiding her eyes. He was able to feel her hot tears through his shirt.

There were times during her monthly cycle where she would lay still for hours, as if in some trance. She would avoid talking to him, sometimes for days.

He knew she felt guilty for not bearing him a child, but little did she know he felt equally convicted.

“Why would God bless their marriage and leave me barren?” She had yet to look at him.

“I do not know, love,” He replied honestly, “but you cannot think God has not blessed this marriage. And if you do, need I remind you how much I still love you? With or without child.”

She pressed her hands to her eyes, cursing herself under her breath. “You deserve a son. You would be a great... a great father,” she hiccuped.

He approached her, sinking to his knees in the murky water and maneuvering that he was able to catch her eyes, and he took her hands from her face. “Your life will never be endangered from bearing a child, and _that_ is a blessing. I love you, whether or not you bear me ten children or none at all. You are enough.” He grasped her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his, “ _You_ are enough.” 

“I don’t...I don’t see how…”

He locked his arms around her waist and pulled her in so that her hands rested on his shoulders. "You're more than enough," he kissed her collarbone, "and if you want children, I'll give it my best each night, if I have to." 

She looked at him through bleary eyes but was able to laugh.

“You are too good to me.” She murmured and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I'll give you children," he promised her and planted a kiss on her cheek, "if it's the last thing I do."

***

However, no marriage is without its altercations. As tender as Leofric could be, he could be equal part brute. His heart may have belonged to her, but his passion was a fight, and damn him if he were not fearless to the point of being stupid, sometimes.

“What do you _mean_ you will be fighting to the death?” Raia sat before him, her arms folded and her eyes narrowed across the table at her husband.

He had told her of the King’s demand, and his vow to give Uhtred a warrior’s death. _Out of respect,_ he had said. He spoke so casually as if it were nothing, and her hands began to shake.

“He will _slaughter_ you, you pig-headed oaf! Why would you-”

“You will watch how you speak to me,” he warned, cutting his eyes to her. “Uhtred is a friend, and this what must be done.”

“How foolish can men be?” She muttered, “Was there any thought of your wife when you spoke up? You would leave her widowed over the respect for a damned Dane!”

“ _It does not concern you!”_ He pushed back from the table and towered over her. “I will fight and I will win. And you will watch that tongue of yours or so help me-”

“You’ll what? Fight me too?” Raia seethed, standing as well, but nowhere near the height of her husband. “Where has your mind gone, man? Every since that heathen arrived you’ve followed him without question, and now you would die for him. A pagan. An outsider.”

The muscles in his jaw clenched, and his eyes flared.

“You’re thirst for battle is going to get you killed.” She said lowly, “And if he brings your death tomorrow, I will at least have the satisfaction of saying I told you so.”

He slammed his fist down on the table, “You will not speak to me that way. I am your husband-”

“And I am your wife!” A wave of nausea overwhelmed her, and she leaned against the table. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed her hair away from her face. “And I _need_ you, Leofric, you arse.”

No words were exchanged between them for the longest time, and then he turned to leave, and she did not stop him.

Instead, she screamed. She screamed until her throat was raw, and her eyes burned with tears, and she wanted to go after him and berate him, but that would do no good. His mind was set.

She thought of going to Alfred to beg, to have this whole thing called off, forgotten, and brushed under the rug. _Just kill the Dane,_ she would say, _spare your best man._ After all, she had assisted with the birth of his firstborn, surely she would have some influence.

But he was doing what he thought best, and she should not question that, she knew.

She could always just slit the Dane’s throat herself…

That thought festered in her mind, urging her feet to move out the door. He would be easy to find, with that long hair, and fur-padded shoulders. The stench of his heathen-

“Lady Raia.” It seems he had found her first.

She slowly turned to him, greeted with that boyish half-smile.

“You’re to kill my husband, then?”

Her question took him by surprise, but he remained platonic. “I will certainly try, lady. Leofric is no amateur, need I remind you.”

She sauntered closer to him, and whispered lowly, “Know that in killing him, you are killing the only man here who would vouch for you.”

Uhtred dropped his gaze and replied. “I do not wish to kill him, Raia.”

“And he neither you, yet here you both are.” They locked eyes, and were held there until she finally turned to go home, “When you see him, please tell him to find another place to spend the night.”

**

This was not their first disagreement, nor the first time he had been such a bull-headed arse.

He’d come home dog-faced drunk and reeking of ale one evening, and he’d staggered in grumbling and demanding supper from her. She had been livid, cursing him up and down, wondering what _else_ might have touched his lips that night.

And all he could do was laugh.

He’d groped at her roughly, and when she slapped him, his demeanor changed. He had grabbed her arms, and jerked her around so that she was bent over the bed and he was at her hips. Fearful of what he would do next, she froze, and luckily what he did next was turn and barf.

She’d doused him with a bucket of cold water and left him to sleep on the floor.

Brutish as he may have been, he had never laid a hand against her. Pushed her around with his sheer size, yes, but never had he beat her.

She found herself curled in the midst of their bed that night, alone, tears streaming down her cheeks. There was one thing she always knew about Leofric that she always tried to forget: she came second to his line of work. Try as she might, there was no overcoming it.

However, she could not deny that while some days she may hate him, she could not be more in love with him. And damn him for endangering himself, because that also endangered her heart.


	3. Part III

The first time Raia had spoken to Leofric was a year after she had first laid eyes on him. Tall, handsome, and dutiful, he had paid her little mind at first. They had never encountered each other alone, until one fall.

Having been the recipient of unwanted attention from a visiting nobleman’s son, Raia had all but been driven mad by this boy’s presence. His eyes lingered over her, he followed her at a distance in the evenings, and he made lewd comments under his breath towards her.

She was able to do nothing but suffer him. She had even gone so far as to feign illness, seeing that as the only way to get away. A knock had come to her chamber door, and she feared this boy had finally got up enough gall to approach her, but instead she had opened to find Leofric.

Much to her relief, but at the same time, she could feel her face flush red.

Leofric was a serious man, who was kind enough to smile when she passed, but never said anything more. He was handsome, and at the same time intimidating.

“The Lady Aelswith has sent me to walk you to her chambers,” he sounded a bit perplexed, “I am to make sure that no one bothers you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, pushing her hair over her shoulder. Aelswith was not blind after all. “Of course.”

She had followed behind him, her head down for fear of seeing her not-so-secret admirer. They walked in silence for a way before he spoke again.

“Who is it that is bothering you, lady? If you don’t mind me knowing.”

“He is the son of the visiting nobleman. He has said...unflattering things about me...followed me down the halls. It has made me uneasy,” she confessed in a hushed voice.

“Is that why you were hiding in your room?” He looked over his shoulder at her, expecting a response. She kept her eyes on her feet, thinking how cowardly she must appear to him. When she said nothing, he added, “I am more than happy to escort you, if it makes you feel better.”

And so for the next few days, he escorted her to and from her room, making small talk along the way. Soon these brief walks turned into detours and deep conversations. She felt safe next to him, and he respected the space she kept between them. She often wondered what he would do should her admirer turn up, and one particular evening she found out.

Leofric had been escorting her back to her chambers when they rounded a corner and saw him. He’d been at the end of the hall, mid-conversation, when he spotted the pair coming his way. He quickly shooed his companion away and waited for them to pass.

Leofric immediately straightened his shoulders, and Raia half hid behind his arm.

He ran his fingers through his greasy hair and pulled his lips back across his yellowing teeth in an attempt at a grin. “Evening,” he greeted as they passed.

“Evening, lord,” Leofric nodded respectfully and carried on.

“Let me know when you are done with her.”

Raia had to stop to keep from running into Leofric, who was quick to turn and grab the young man by his collar.

“What did you say?” He all but growled in the boy’s ear.

“You’re not the only one who wants to hump her, _lord_ ,” The pervert smirked, his eyes darting to Raia, “How does she ride?”

Raia watched as Leofric slammed this boy into the wall, lifting his feet from the ground and pressing his hand into his throat. “You’ll watch your tongue, or I shall cut it out. And you will keep your eyes off of her, or I will cut those out too.” He dropped him to the ground and shoved him in the opposite direction. “Off with you, you piece of dog shit.”

The young man rubbed his throat and stumbled away coughing.

“Disregard anything that maggot says, m’lady. He’s worthless,” Leofric reassured her.

She reached out for his arm, and linked her fingers with his, “Please come get me in the morning,” she whispered under a shaky breath.

“Of course,” he promised her and proceeded to take her back to her room.

It was hard to believe that a man so tender and so caring could all the same be so cold. He had come home the night before the fight and said nothing to her. She had felt him shift the bed, but she was turned away, and he was content to let her brood. He had left the next morning in the same manner, without a word, and she had forced herself back to sleep to keep from worrying. 

Leofric had always been able to protect her, and she could do nothing to protect him. It made her feel meek and powerless.

She eventually roused, though was unable to force herself down to the square. She did not wish to see this fight, and so she dressed and stoked the fire. She could not bring herself to eat, either, so she cleaned.

Their first moments, before husband and wife, had been so pure. He would walk with her during the evenings he was free, even after the nobleman’s son had left, and they continued talking, bantering back and forth. She would not have thought so before, but he was quite the charmer.

It had all gone to pot with the arrival of those godforsaken-

_“Danes!”_

Her head swiveled towards the door, towards the sound of shouting. 

“There are Danes in the walls!”

Screaming immediately followed. Had Uhtred won then? Had he planned an attack to follow his victory?

She stood in the midst of their house, unsure of what to do. Run or hide? Which would she be better off doing? There was no relying on her husband at this point, if he were even still alive, he would be protecting the king.

Her eyes flew to the space under their bed, and then to the loft. Her heart moved wildly in her chest, but her limbs seemed not to move at all. She pushed her way under the bed, and not a moment too soon: someone was beating their door in, and by the time she had hidden herself the intruder had broken through.

He was large, burly, and would make Uhtred look pathetic. He began rifling through their things, searching for valuables, and when he turned in her direction she held her breath. His eyes seemed to glow under his matted hair, and had it not been for the hem of her damn dress, he may not have noticed her.

“What have we here?” He grinned and fell to his knees, wrapping his hand around her ankle. She kicked, but his strength proved too much, and he folded her legs under his arm and pulled her out from under the bed.

She screamed and cursed, and bit his hand that clamped over her mouth. His hand came down across the side of her head with ungodly force, leaving her ears ringing and her vision blurred.

She could feel his hands traveling up her legs, pushing her dress above her hips. Her arms moved slowly as if they weighed a ton, but they were too weak to push him off. She could feel herself being lifted, and then the bed was under her, and he was between her legs.

He forced himself inside her, moving harshly at a speed her mind could not process. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her mouth tried to call out for her husband, but she was too stunned. Her world moved slowly, out of focus, and she suddenly felt numb all over.

The only thing she felt was a hand on her arm, jerking her upwards. Someone’s voice was calling to her distantly, but the face of Uhtred Ragnarson was right there in her face.

“We have to go, Raia,” He was urging her to move, pulling her arms. Her legs felt weak under her as she willed them forward, following the Dane. The world around her was chaos.

People screamed, blades glinted in the air and rang against bone, blood flowed into the streets. She kept her focus on her wrist, where his hand was bound.

She felt nauseous, unsure if vomit or words were going to come out of mouth next. “ _Leofric?_ ”

“He is this way, lady,” Uhtred said, “I told you I did not want to kill him.”

They rounded a corner, and there he stood. His face was paled, his eyes wide as he reached out for her before she could fall to her knees. His hands were on her face, but her mind could only feel those of her attacker's. She thought she might faint, but Uhtred urged them onward, and everything around her was a blur. 

It was not until they were in the depths of the forest that she felt the need to stop and purge, and that is exactly what she did. She heaved until she thought she would heave her stomach right out of her throat. She heaved until snot ran down her nose and her eyes were watering. 

“Are you alright?” It was as if Leofric was yelling in her ear, though he stood a few paces away. Her head buzzed, and she wanted to cover herself and cry.

“What happened?” He demanded, then turned to his companion. “Uhtred, what happened?”

The poor man hesitated, and she wished he would say nothing at all, but he finally replied, “There was a man...on her… Leofric, we must keep moving.”

Her husband looked down at her, almost in disbelief, “Tell me it isn't so...”

“She is in shock, lord,” An airy voice answered, and it was then that Raia realized two others were with them: The pagan witch -who had spoken- and a woman who appeared to be a nun. She further realized that they had escaped Winchester, and her home was burning behind her.

“Come now, dear, we must keep moving,” The nun lifted her arm, “There is no time to talk about this, we must go, now.”

Leofric looked on at his wife, though his expression was indiscernible. She was a bewildered mess, frightened, and he had no time to comfort her. He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the gut, and at the same time, he wanted to rip someone apart. 

***

They carried on until it grew dark, and when they were sure they had gone far enough from the destruction, they built a fire.

The nun - Hild - took the still dazed Raia to the creek they had settled by, and began washing her hands and legs. There was blood on her dress, and she was unsure if it belonged to her or the barbarian that had attacked her. Her hands trembled.

“How long have you been married?” Hild suddenly asked of her, trying to relieve the poor girl's mind.

Raia looked up at her, and quietly muttered, "Three years."

"Hmm, I would have thought longer," She commented softly, then added, "They rescued me from a similar situation."

Raia cast a look over her shoulder, her eyes landing on the broad back of her husband. Her lips quivered and she hid her face behind her disheveled hair, fighting the urge to cry. Hild pressed her thumb into her palm to reassure her.

"It's not your fault." 

Raia sucked in a gasp, "I felt so weak."

Hild understood completely, and leaned into her, "Your husband is here now. Trust him, and he will protect you."

Raia felt her gut clench, for ever since he had escorted her down those hallways, she had believed that. Due to the circumstance of his absence this morning, which she had yet to forgive him for, she was beginning to feel some sort of contempt towards him.

Hild ran a soothing hand across her back, and left her at the water and returned to sit next to Leofric. She heard them murmuring to one another, and finally, her husband came out and said, “You were being humped against a wall. My _wife_ was being humped against the wall. Where was God then?”

“He sent you,” Hild replied sharply. “He protected your wife, who needs anything but this conversation at the moment.”

Raia heard Leofric shift and felt his eyes on her. She buried her head in her hands, careful not to press the bruise that was forming along her temple. She closed her eyes and could see those of her attacker, and she began to hyperventilate when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, though it was only her savior.

“Easy, lady, it is just me,” Uhtred said as he sat down next to her. She settled, wishing to not feel so embarrassed sitting next to him. He picked at a blade of grass, and nonchalantly murmured, “It is warmer by the fire.”

She said nothing, only burying her chin into her knees.

“He feels guilty, lady, for not being the one to come get you,” Uhtred whispered to her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “He does not know the words to say to you, is all.”

“I am glad he did not see me like that,” she confessed, peeking over at him. "Thank you, Uhtred."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Please, come join us by the fire."

She obliged and followed him back to the warmth of the flames, where she kneeled beside her husband and rested her head against his knee. She felt his fingers run through her hair, and then his lips against her temple. Leofric made gentle circles on her back, knowing it was what eased her, but when the other all settled down for the night and slept, she could not. No matter which was she laid, even in the arms of her husband, she could not find comfort. She could not get those eyes out of her mind, or the feel of his hands on her, or the heat of him inside of her. No matter how close she held to Leofric, no matter how many times she reassured herself that he was dead, she could not forget the barbarian.


	4. Part IV

It was by divine intervention that they had come upon King Alfred in the marshlands. Or rather, the “King of nothing” as Uhtred would put it, and to be fair, Raia could care less. She had not seen this man since he had agreed to let her husband risk his life over something so meaningless, and because of his idleness, they were now homeless. 

She’d kept her mouth shut, having barely spoken a word since leaving Winchester. She instead filled her time watching the pagan witch - Iseult - mixing herbs and making tonics. She had told her which leaves cured headaches, which roots soothed cramps, and which berries could kill. 

“These really work?” Raia asked. 

“If done correctly, yes,” Iseult replied. 

“You’ve got a gift from God, then,” Raia complemented, to which Iseult smiled. It was clear that she was an unwelcome presence amongst the King and his court, where the merely tolerated Uhtred. But Raia recognized Iseult as a gentle spirit, who had little to say, but much to give.

From one of the other platforms, Raia could hear the Prince Edward crying. She had helped deliver the baby, and while she should be next to her Queen at this time, she instead chose to sit with Iseult and learn. 

The last time she had heard a baby cry like that was her nephew, Osferth.

Though illegitimate, Raia had a hand in birthing that baby and had stepped in to be a wet nurse. She had not seen him in some time, having been sent to a monastery at a young age, but she cherished the time she’d had with him. It was as close as she had gotten to motherhood.

Osferth had had a cough, though not as harsh as Edwards, and had refused to suckle. She had stayed up late into the night, trying to nurse him, soothe him, rocking him in her arms, to the point she was near physical and emotional exhaustion. 

“He does not want me,” she sighed, “It’s as if he knows I’m not his mother.”

Leofric saw her distress and held his arms out for her. “Come to bed, both of you.” The huskiness of his voice made him sound equally as exhausted. 

Raia had climbed into bed, Leofric guiding her as she held the baby close, and situated her so that she was between his legs with her back against his chest.

“Relax,” he whispered, “you’re going to pace yourself to death, darling. He is tired, too.” He reached under her arm, pulled the collar of her dress aside, and began to massage her aching breasts. “Give him time,” he kissed just below her ear, working the nipple between his forefinger and thumb, bringing rise to goosebumps across her skin.

“Do you have ulterior motives, love?” She asked, a smirk dancing across her lips.

“I simply wish to sleep, is all,” his chuckle vibrated through her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in the touch of her husband. He massaged the entirety of her chest, palming her breast and pulling it forward, before fixating on her nipple once more. She had merely dozed off when she felt something tugging at her teet and opened her eyes to the babe nursing. 

“Lucky bastard,” Leofric muttered, and she elbowed him in the ribs. 

The baby Osferth had slept between them, secured by Raia’s arms, and surrounded by Leofric’s body. She awoke the next morning to an empty bed, but could hear the low rumble of her husband’s voice coming from the hearth. He stood with the babe resting on his shoulder, unaware that she was watching.

“She’s worn herself out worrying over you,” He muttered to the dear child, “and she would have a dozen of you at once if she could.” Osferth had let out a whine, to which Leofric shushed him softly and rested his cheek atop his head. “She’ll be up, soon enough. She knows when a warm body is gone.”

Seeing the soft side of her husband, half dressed from the waist down, carrying an infant so delicately in his arms had only made her yearning for a child of their own that much stronger. 

She wished she could see that soft side now, but their lives had taken them far from that day. And now they were stuck in the midst of a swamp.

“You’ve been...unable to have children?” Iseult drew her from her thoughts.

“So far, yes,” she answered slowly. 

The witch put a hand over hers reassuringly, “In time, it will happen.”

Raia smiled and cast a glance towards her husband, who was conversing with one of the marsh-dwellers. She considered asking the witch how long she had with her husband, or how much time it would take, but she decided she did not want that answer and continued to watch her create tonics.

***

Days passed, and she grew ever anxious about their predicament. She and Leofric hardly spoke to one another, only coming together at night to sleep, and even still she felt just as distant. A wrong touch to the leg or abdomen would scare her, prompting memories of those vile moments under that wretch of a man.

Days turned to weeks, and she would often wander down to the bank of the river, or off into the tall grasses just there by the homesteads. One morning she ventured off in the marsh, going further than she had gone before down the intertwining paths until she had to start making her own. 

Her mind wandered with her feet, thinking only of her husband and if he still valued her, or simply saw her as ruined goods. She could bear him no children, she could heal no King, and she could not even defend herself. Without her, he would be able to dedicate himself fully to the throne, to Alfred, to the Kingdom of Wessex.

She came to a shallow channel that swept inward from the river and planted her feet in the mud. Only then, when she stopped, did she realize that morning had turned to afternoon. She should have turned to head back, but she didn’t. Instead, she got to her knees and glared at her reflection on the water’s surface. 

She was no Iseult, stunningly beautiful, nor was she Aelswith, poised and enlightened. She was Raia, a handmaid, and a useless wife.

She smacked the surface of the water, muddling her reflection, and splashing mud upon her face. She grew so ill that she slammed her hands into the mud, squeezing it between her fingers as if to choke out her frustrations. She was torn between crying and screaming, and resorted to the latter. No one would hear her out here.

Or so she thought.

“What in God’s name, woman?” 

Startled, she recoiled and nearly fell into the water head first, but caught herself in time to turn and see the perplexed stare of her husband.

“W-what are you doing out here? How’d you find me?” She looked away, now embarrassed by her outburst and the mud splattering her cheeks.

“I followed you,” he said plainly, coming up behind her. “I’ve followed you each time you come into these marshes.”

“Afraid I’d get lost.” She spat bitterly over her shoulder.

“Yes,” he admitted, “and I do not know these men here.”

She felt a lump swell in her throat, and quietly she hissed, “Afraid you would miss me being raped, again?” 

Leofric sat next to her, his eyes ahead of him. “Afraid I would not be there to save you, yes,” his gaze dropped to his hands, “again.” 

Raia said nothing as she fought back her tears, so he continued. “I’ve put off this discussion long enough, Raia. I’ve been hoping that we would be out of these swamps by now and that we would be in private to talk to one another about...about what happened.”

Raia clenched her teeth and tried to speak evenly. “You  _ weren’t there _ . You weren’t there when I needed you.”

“I know, and I-”

“You went willingly into a fight and left me, and I had to lie on my back under some pagan and wonder if you were even  _ alive _ to save me.” She covered her eyes with her wrists and pressed into them, composing herself before saying, “You have no idea how helpless I felt. The fear...of being without you...yet you run thoughtlessly into danger without warrant to me. Do you have  _ any idea _ how much I worry for your sake?” 

Leofric was quiet, stripping a piece of grass between his fingers before finally looking her honestly in the eye and saying, “I’m sorry. I've been unfair to you.”

Raia’s cheeks burned, and unable to hold back any longer she finally let herself cry.

“I am sorry that I...cause you such heartache,” his voice was genuine, equally hurt. “I’ve been kicking myself in the arse for my blatant stupidity. I can’t sleep at night for thinking about what might have happened to you in my absence.”

“Me either,” Raia confessed and rubbed her dirty cheek with her sleeve. “I am nothing without you. I am nothing but vulnerable.”

Leofric reached for his dagger, and held it out for her, “We can change that.” Raia reached for it, but he quickly drew it back, “Only after you are cleaned.”

Raia rolled her eyes, wishing for the luxury of a good bath. 

“Let me clean you,” he offered to her surprise, “Please.”

Seeing this as a way of mending, she followed him to the edge of the river and waited as he undressed himself down to the skin before he began to undress her, just as she had once done for him.

He slid her dress over her head, and cast it to the bank alongside his own clothes. She tried to cover her modesty with her hands, but he was quick to capture her hands and take them into his own. 

“It’s just me,” he whispered, reassuring her with a kiss on her knuckles, “It’s just you and I.” 

He lead her out into the shallows until they were waist deep, and there he took his kerchief and began to cleanse the mud from her cheeks. She was beautiful, even when upset and covered in grime.

“May I kiss you?” He felt the need to ask, and she nodded and allowed his lips on her’s. He’d missed their sex, yes, but he could not go a day without thinking about the taste of her lips. 

“I’m ashamed you feel the need to ask,” she admitted quietly, “I know I’ve been rather distant but I’m still your wife.”

He ran his cloth along her neck, and his eyes trailed down to her breasts and torso. To think that another man had touched her body made him seethe with rage, though he understood why she had grown shy under his touch. His heart clenched and he felt undeniably guilty.

He pulled back and cupped her cheek. “I will never force myself upon you, Raia. Never.” The sincerity of his voice made her lips tremble, and he quickly dabbed at her eyes with his cloth. “None of that, now.”

“I just want to forget. He has ruined me.” 

“Ruined you?” Leofric echoed, and then pulled her closer to his chest. “I see nothing ruined, just someone in need of reminding.” 

She sniffed and rubbed her nose. “Reminding?”

“Reminding what a gentle touch is,” his hands trailed down her arms, and he kissed the soft flesh of her wrist before laying them upon his shoulders. “Reminding that she is safe,” his hands snaked around her back, and he continued to run his cloth along her spine, and then he locked his fingers under her shoulders, “and reminding that she is mine.” 

He tipped her backward so that she was submerged under the water, and then brought her back to the surface, laughing at his silly ploy.

“There we are,” he smiled with her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself even closer. He could map out her freckles, and count every color in her eyes, and practically taste the sweetness of those lips just by looking at them. 

“You’ve got a face the angels would envy,” he remarked.

She hummed, “Though not as beautiful as Iseult’s.”

He chuffed, wrapping his arms beneath her bare bottom. “I would not know. I’ve only the eye for you.”

There he went, being charming again. Just when she thought she couldn’t smile, her lips turned upward into a grin.

He carried her back to the shore and found a grassy spot to lay her down. She pulled his head down to meet her lips as he positioned himself over her, his hands trailing down to her legs, where his fingers squeezed into her thighs. 

It took him a moment to realize that she had stopped kissing him, and when he pulled back she had all but froze beneath him. Her face had blanched and she’d drawn in a sharp breath. Her eyes were wide and looked right through him, and he sat back in shock.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that…” Leofric apologized as he pushed himself away. “I should not have done that.” He was scolding himself, angry for pushing her into this too soon. 

She sat up and immediately covered herself, and Leofric could do nothing but watch, and apologize, and hate himself even more. 

“Is there...is there any way I can…” He was at a loss. How was he to help her if his very touched offended her? And as he pondered, and she calmed down, he had an idea. He reached out and drew her in between his legs where she huddled against his chest like a frightened child.

“Perhaps I need to help you forget, then?” He said into her hair.

“How?”

If it was a rough touch that scared her, he would do the exact opposite. His fingertips ghosted over the flesh of her legs, trailing up between her thighs and then gently kneading the flesh there. Her back stiffened, but not from anxiety. As his one hand worked her legs, his other ran from her navel to her breast, where he delicately rubbed at her nipples before lightly tickling back down to her hips. 

Her skin erupted into chills, and she sat back against her husband. His lips kissed just below her jawline, and when she leaned her neck back against his shoulder, he toyed with her sex, earning a small moan. Her hands gripped his thighs, and she rolled her hips forward and spread her legs to allow him better access.

She prayed to God no one would come looking for them.

His fingers curled into her, pumping slowly to allow her to build up to her pleasure. His other hand still lightly played with her swelling tits, following them as they heaved upon her chest. 

“Leofric, I…” she gasped, “I need…” unable to finish her sentence, she forced herself to turn around and settle on his already swollen cock. His hands were in her hair, bringing her lips to his, and as he folded her on his lap he eased into her. He was not forceful, nor did he immediately start thrusting: he waited for her to adjust around him, and then as she braced herself on his shoulders, she began to roll her hips. 

He allowed her something she had been denied in so many aspects of her life: control. 

He held her above him, his hands braced on the small of her back, and watched as her breasts bounced with every rut, and had he not been a Christian man he would have chosen to worship her instead.

She would kiss him, roll her hips, and gasp, drawing herself ever closer to her climax. When she finally came close, she drew herself into to him, bracing her arms around his neck for support. Only then did he thrust his hips beneath her, and as she came over him, his seed spilled into her.

She was breathless but unable to separate from him. 

“You are my life, Leofric,” She whispered to him.

“I am forever yours,” He chuckled into her neck, “Faithfully.” 


	5. Part V

“Try not to hurt the arseling, love. He may look tough but he is quite soft in the head,” Leofric teased the Dane, who shot him a heated glare while smiling at the same time. Uhtred had agreed to teach Raia a few tricks in self-defense to put her _and_ Leofric’s mind at ease.

This was one lesson he wished he had Brida here. 

“Soft spots are the weakest, after all,” Uhtred added, “Anywhere soft on the body is where you want to aim. The gut, the sides, the groin, and the face. Most any man will be armored, so going for the face will be your best bet.” He then pulled out his knife and held it overhanded. “A swing like this can be blocked, and it’s only good if you’re above your enemy,” he then held it underhanded, “Thrust it like this,” he jerked the knife upwards, “and you can cut the hands or arms on the way up.” 

He then lunged forward and grabbed her hair, and put the knife just under her chin. Leofric shifted uneasily, but he could see that his wife was not afraid.

“If you grab the back of the head, they can go nowhere. That is when you plunge the knife just under the chin.” 

“Right,” Raia acknowledged, then he passed the knife to her. She lunged at him, holding her knife underhanded and grabbed a fist full of his hair to hold him still. She stopped just as the tip tickled the underside of his throat and then retreated. “But what if I can’t get to my knife?” 

“Should you be face to face and his hands are around your throat, you are going to bring your arms between his, push them apart, and go for his eyes.” Uhtred then put his hands around her neck and instructed her further. “Push against my forearms and go for the eyes.” 

Raia did so, much to Uhtred’s amazement, and Leofric beamed. 

“Should someone grab you from behind,” He turned her around and locked his arms around her midsection, “You have two options: Step forward and bring your elbow to the side of their face, or simply rear back and head-butt them.” 

“Like this?” And without warning, Raia reared her head back, colliding with Uhtred’s nose. It worked, to say the least, and he staggered back to regain himself.

“Yes,” Uhtred said over the sound of Leofric’s laughter, rubbing his nose, “like that.” 

“I’m so sorry! Really, I am,” She apologized.

“This is not the teachings of a lady,” Aelswith muttered next to Leofric. 

Alfred, who stood just on the other side of her, muttered, “Our daughter will learn the same,” provoking a scoff from his wife.

Uhtred continued coaching her through the afternoon, overlooked by Leofric, who was pleased to see that his wife was learning. Should he leave this world too soon, God forbid, he at least had the comfort in knowing his wife could take care of herself. 

***

“You best not cross me anymore,” She warned him as she washed, “I’m capable of murder now.” 

Leofric raised his brow and chuckled, “That so?” 

“Indeed it is,” she flicked her hair over her shoulder. 

“Seeing you with a knife at someone's throat  _ is _ oddly arousing,” he confessed, cleaning his shoulders just a few paces further from her. 

“Odd, indeed.” She laughed, though this lesson had been much more than a lesson, today. She could sense it by the way his eyes would drop after meeting hers. “Are you afraid, Leofric?” 

He turned to his wife, “Afraid of what, love?”

She shrugged. “Afraid I will not rely on you anymore?” 

He chuckled, but shook his head, “Only that you will kill me and leave me for someone else.”

She cackled and waded over to her husband. Her hands slithered up his back and around to his chest, where they rested as she pulled herself snug to his back. “You’re not allowed to die, Leofric, not even by my hand.” 

His voice reverberated through her. “That is comforting.”

“And even after you’re gone, I’ll never love another.” Her fingers trickled down his ribs, below the water, and made small circles above his hips until he captured them in his hands, and brought them to his lips. “Never kiss another man, feel his touch. There’s no one that could replace you.” 

“What makes you say this?” He turned to her, pulling her out into the deeper water so that she was forced to cling to him. “What makes you think I am the one going first?” 

She gripped onto his shoulders and rolled her eyes.“Please, you and your pretentious nature.” 

Leforic scoffed, feigning mock hurt. “Must you berate me in this way?” 

“I keep you humble,” she drew her face closer to his, and kissed him, then pressed her forehead to his. “I say this because I see that you worry. That is why you asked Uhtred to teach me.” 

A sigh escaped his lips, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I am afraid often,” he admitted. “I am afraid that each time I leave you will be the last I see of you.” 

“That we share,” she confessed, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “God has a way of bringing you back to me, though.”

A twig snapped the behind them, and the vulnerable Leofric suddenly pulled his shoulders back and turned defensive. He turned towards the intruder, keeping Raia behind him.

“Show yourself!” His voice was low and immense, startling the young boys that had been hiding in the reeds. “I'll blot your eyes out, you bloody perverts,” Leofric snarled as they bolted, though Raia could do nothing but giggle and tug on his arm. 

“Now  _ that _ is something arousing,” she said as she let herself sink until just her neck was visible above the surface. “Big strong man defending his woman from a pack of adolescent boys.” 

He turned to grab her, but she kicked away, teasing him with a grin as she ducked underwater. He waited for her to resurface, sinking to his knees, and then suddenly she had her arms around his neck and her lips pressed to his. 

And all fear of losing one another was gone. 

If but for a moment.

***

She’d had a dream prior to the news. She had been stumbling through the woods when Leofric had caught her, and being unable to discern that this was a dream, Raia had asked him what he was doing home so soon. 

“Forever Yours.”

It was all he had said, before turning and disappearing off into the woods, and no matter how hard she tried she could not find him. 

It had been Uhtred to deliver the news of her husband’s death, and she had doubled over and crumpled there at his feet, crying so hard that she thought her sides would split. His own eyes were red from the loss of his pagan queen, but he knelt by her in the doorway of her home and pulled her to her feet.

“Not here, lady.” He practically carried her inside and set her at the table, and waited for her to catch her breath. He wiped her eyes, her nose, and brushed the hair out of her face.

After nearly an hour, Raia was finally able to ask, “How?”

“To the neck, lady. He fought with all his strength. To the last second.” 

He reached into a pouch and pulled out a silver ring and handed it over to her. 

“...And what about...the... _ his _ body?” Her words broke as her voice failed her once more.

They had buried him, unlike the others they had burned. He knew Raia would someday want to see him. “He rests with warriors.” 

“He walks with God,” she corrected him softly. 

“Aye,” Uhtred agreed. Then he stood. “I will leave you, lady.” 

“Do you think God is punishing me?” She asked him hastily.

He turned back to her, perplexed. “For what, lady? You have been nothing but faithful.”

“For loving him too much?” 

Uhtred shook his head, approaching her and kneeling at her eye level. “He was your husband, Raia. What else were you to do?” She cast her eyes down, her hand finding his. “You do not deserve this.” 

_ You do not deserve this.  _

His words had echoed over and over in her mind long after he’d gone, and as she lay curled in what was once a bed she shared, she felt as if she were only in the background of what was once their life. 

She could still see him at the door, coming and going all the same, watching the expanse of his back as he left or the glow in his eyes as he came home. She could hear the tugging of leather and the clattering of metal as he pulled his armor on. She could see him at their table, slipping on his boots, beckoning her over for a goodbye kiss, and how she wished she had cherished it more.

She laid there in a trance, watching the years of their marriage float by as if it had all been a dream. 

Somewhere between sleep and consciousness, she saw him. As if he were in the flesh, looming over her bed. She held an arm out for him, and he joined her in the bed, though it made no sound under his weight. She could smell his skin, feel his breath, and she closed her eyes, afraid if she opened them again he would be nothing but a memory. 

His hand traveled up her leg as he nestled behind her, kissing her softly on the back of the neck. And for a moment she had him back and all his warmth, though when he moved to leave she whispered, “Stay,” She pleaded, her voice unrecognizable, “just for a while longer.” 

She could feel him hesitate, her eyes still closed, and she knew he did not wish to leave. 

“You said forever...” She whispered.

His words were clear in her ear as if he were actually there, “I meant that.” 

When she opened her eyes there was nothing but the morning sun to greet her. And she rolled over to vomit, for her heart could not take the ache any longer. 

***

The King had made a point of stopping by to check on her. She was sure he and all of Wessex could hear her crying in the night, as mourning had taken place of sleep. 

Alfred had come in and sat across from her at the table, offering his deepest sympathy, and she had sat there listening with no real emotion playing across her face. 

"...He was a great warrior and a good man," Alfred said, "I will miss his company."

Raia gritted her teeth. "He was a warrior first. Always. Your command came above all else."

"There will be no man more loyal than he, that is-"

"There will be no other man who would love me as he did," she quickly interjected, "Forgive me, my lord, but he was merely a pawn in your life. He was my whole life. And I have nothing without him."

Alfred pressed his lips together, then very slowly said, "I see where your concern comes from... you are worried you will starve without him, though I assure you that is not the case. Your service to the Queen shall continue and..."

"Alfred," she stopped him, "I am not sure that... that I can return to work for Aelswith. Not yet, anyway. Not with the memories of him being there..." 

The King took her hint, and replied, "Take the time that you need, and know that you have a place here." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too long it has been, and I'm finally back around to writing this! I've been moving back and forth between fanfiction and other works, all while taking a semester off. This was, by far, the chapter I had been dreading.


	6. Part VI

“Try not to hurt the arseling, love. He may look tough but he is quite soft in the head,” Leofric teased the Dane, who shot him a heated glare while smiling at the same time. Uhtred had agreed to teach Raia a few tricks in self defense to put her and Leofric’s mind at ease.

This was one lesson he wished he had Brida here.

“Soft spots are the weakest, afterall,” Uhtred added, “Anywhere soft on the body is where you want to aim. The gut, the sides, the groin, and the face. Most any man will be armoured, so going for the face will be your best bet.” He then pulled out his knife, and held it over handed. “A swing like this can be blocked, and it’s only good if you’re above your enemy,” he then held it underhanded, “Thrust it like this,” he jerked the knife upwards, “and you can cut the hands or arms on the way up.” 

He then lunged forward and grabbed her hair, and put the knife just under her chin. Leofric shifted uneasily, but he could see that his wife not afraid.

“If you grab the back of the head, they can go nowhere. That is when you plunge the knife just under the chin.” 

“Right,” Raia acknowledged, then he passed the knife to her. She lunged at him, holding her knife underhanded and grabbed a fist full of his hair to hold him still. She stopped just as the tip tickled the underside of his throat. “But what if I can’t get to my knife?"

“Should you be face to face and his hands are around your throat, you are going to bring your arms between his, push them apart, and go for his eyes.” Uhtred then put his hands around her neck, and instructed her further. “Push against my forearms and go for the eyes.” 

Raia did so, much to Uhtred’s amazement, and Leofric beamed. 

“Should someone grab you from behind,” He turned her around and locked his arms around her midsection, “You have two options: Step forward and bring your elbow to the side of their face, or simply rear back and head-butt them.” 

“Like this?” And without warning, Raia reared her head back, colliding with Uhtred’s nose. It worked, to say the least, and he staggered backwards to regain himself.

“Yes,” Uhtred said over the sound of Leofric’s laughter, “like that.” 

“I’m so sorry! Really, I am,” She apologized.

“This is not the teachings of a lady,” Aelswith muttered next to Leofric. 

Alfred, who stood just on the other side of her, muttered, “Our daughter will learn the same,” provoking a scoff from his wife.

Uhtred continued coaching her through the afternoon, overlooked by Leofric, who was pleased to see that his wife was learning. Should he leave this world too soon, God forbid, he at least had the comfort in knowing his wife could take care of herself. 

***

“You best not cross me anymore,” She warned him as she washed, “I’m capable of murder now.” 

Leofric raised his brow and chuckled, “That so?” 

“Indeed it is,” she flicked her hair over her shoulder. 

“Seeing you with a knife at someone's throat  _ is _ oddly arousing,” he confessed, cleaning his shoulders just a few paces further from her. 

“Odd, indeed.” She laughed, though this lesson had been much more than a lesson, today. She could sense it by the way his eyes would drop after meeting hers. “Are you afraid, Leofric?” 

He turned to his wife, “Afraid of what, love?”

She shrugged. “Afraid I will not rely on you anymore?” 

He chuckled, but shook his head, “Only that you will kill me and leave me for someone else.”

She cackled and waded over to her husband. Her hands slithered up his back and around to his chest, where they rested as she pulled herself snug to his back. “You’re not allowed to die, Leofric, not even by my hand.” 

His voice reverberated through her. “That is comforting.”

“And even after you’re gone, I’ll never love another.” Her fingers trickled down his ribs, below the water, and made small circles above his hips until he captured them in his hands, and brought them to his lips. “Never kiss another man, feel his touch. There’s no one that could replace you.” 

“What makes you say this?” He turned to her, pulling her out into the deeper water so that she was forced to cling to him. “What makes you think I am the one going first?” 

She gripped onto his shoulders and rolled her eyes.“Please, you and your pretentious nature.” 

Leforc scoffed, feigning mock hurt. “Must you berate me in this way?” 

“I keep you humble,” she drew her face closer to his, and kissed him, then pressed her forehead to his. “I say this, because I see that you worry. That is why you asked Uhtred to teach me.” 

A sigh escaped his lips, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I am afraid often,” he admitted. “I am afraid that each time I leave you will be the last I see of you.” 

“That we share,” she confessed, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.. “God has a way of bringing you back to me, though.”

A twig snapped the behind them, and the vulnerable Leofric suddenly pulled his shoulders back and turned defensive. He turned towards the sound, keeping Raia behind him.

“Show yourself!” His voice was low and immense, startling the young boys that had been hiding in the reeds. “Perverts!” Leofric snarled as they bolted, though Raia could do nothing but giggle and tug on his arm. 

“Now  _ that _ is something arousing,” she said as she let herself sink until just her neck was visible above the surface. “Big strong man defending his woman from a pack of adolescent boys.” 

He turned to grab her, but she kicked away, teasing him with a grin as she ducked underwater. He waited for her to resurface, sinking to his knees, and then suddenly she had her arms around his neck and her lips pressed to his. 

And all fear of losing one another was gone. 

If but for a moment.

***

She’d had a dream prior to the news. She had been stumbling through the woods when Leofric had caught her, and being unable to discern that this was a dream, Raia had asked him what he was doing home so soon. 

“Forever yours.”

It was all he had said, before turning and disappearing off into the woods, and no matter how hard she tried she could not find him. 

It had been Uhtred to deliver the news of her husband’s death, and she had doubled over and crumpled there at his feet, crying so hard that she thought her sides would split. His own eyes were red from the loss of his pagan queen, but he knelt by her in the doorway of her home and pulled her to her feet.

“Not here, lady.” He practically carried her inside and set her at the table, and waited for her to catch her breath. He wiped her eyes, her nose, and brushed the hair out of her face.

After nearly an hour, Raia was finally able to ask, “How?”

“To the neck, lady. He fought with all his strength. To the last second.” 

He reached into a pouch and pulled out a silver ring and handed it over to her. 

“...And what about...the... _ his _ body?” Her words broke as her voice failed her once more.

They had buried him, unlike the others they had burned. He knew Raia would someday want to see him. “He rests with warriors.” 

“He walks with God,” she corrected him softly. 

“Aye,” Uhtred agreed. Then he stood. “I will leave you, lady.” 

“Do you think God is punishing me?” She asked him hastily.

He turned back to her, perplexed. “For what, lady? You have been nothing but faithful.”

“For loving him too much?” 

Uhtred shook his head, approaching her and kneeling at her eye level. “He was your husband, Raia. What else were you to do?” She cast her eyes down, her hand finding his. “You do not deserve this.” 

_ You do not deserve this.  _

His words had echoed over and over in her mind long after he’d gone, and as she lay curled in what was once a bed she shared, she felt as if she were only in the background of what was once their life. 

She could still see him at the door, coming and going all the same, watching the expanse of his back as he left or the glow in his eyes as he came home. She could hear the tugging of leather and the clattering of chainmail as he pulled his armor on. She could see him at their table, slipping on his boots, beckoning her over for a goodbye kiss, and how she wished she had cherished it more.

She laid there in a trance, watching the years of their marriage float by, as if it had all been a dream. 

This went on for days, and Raia only moved when she needed to, her mind still seeing Leofric and where he should have been.

It was in between sleep and consciousness that she felt him around her, the weight of his arms around her shoulders, his lips on the back of her neck, and she kept her eyes closed out of fear he would disappear again. 

She felt his weight shift, though the bed made no noise.

“Stay…” she gasped, her voice unrecognizable, “just for awhile longer.”

Hesitation lingered in the air has he loomed over her, and she knew he did not wish to leave. She felt her chest clench, desperate to touch him once more. 

“You said forever...” She whispered, her lips trembling and her hand curling into the blankets.

His voice came to her, as clear as if he were actually there, “And I meant it.” 

When she opened her eyes there was nothing but the morning sun to greet her and all of Wessex could hear her cry. 

*.*.*

There was a knock at her door, and she figured if she ignored it, whomever it was would assume she wasn’t home and go away. 

“Raia, I know you’re in there,” But it was the arseling, and he had kept a watchful eye on her over the last few weeks, and it was his time to move on from Winchester. “I wish to speak with you before my departure.” 

She found the strength to ease towards the door, eyes weary and limbs heavy from her lack of sleep. 

When she opened it, she stood aside to allow the Dane in, and took a seat at the table. 

“Raia…” his voice was soft, no doubt pitying the deplorable state she was in.

“I thought you were Alfred, come to offer your condolences,” she said. “He’s already replaced Leofric, you know?”

“I did not know, lady,” Uhtred said, taking a seat across from her. “I came to see how you were before leaving.” 

Raia was quiet, tongue crossing her lips before saying, “I wish I was with him.” 

Uhtred did not have to ask. He could see in her eyes that she wished to be dead rather than living without him. It would have been that way for either of them.

“But then that would mean I would be taking two lives.” 

Uhtred raised his brow, “What do you mean?” 

“He promised to give me a child, if it was the last thing he did,” she placed a hand over her stomach. “I’ve been sick as a mongrel dog these past few mornings.” 

“Congratulations,” Uhtred nodded his head to her, “if there is anything I can do for you, lady, just speak it.” 

She ducked her head and cleared her throat, “Would you...mind sleeping...mind sleeping with me. Tonight.” 

Having not expected that answer, Uhtred sat back as if he’d been slapped. Should Leofric have any reason to rise from the ground and haunt him, surely it would be for this. 

“Lady, I…”

“ _ Not like that. _ Not for that reason…” She quickly reiterated, “I’ve found it hard to sleep without him. Now knowing I will forever be without him… I just need the warmth of a body, is all. If… if not I can manage.” 

He left and came back that evening, much to her surprise. She thought she had been too forward with him, but he arrived under the cover of darkness so that no prying eyes could follow him.

She laid down first, and he climbed over her, positioning himself awkwardly on his side. She then filled the rest of the gap and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into the skin of his shoulder.

“Thank you, Uhtred…” She whispered. “I’ve been so alone. How will I raise a child?’ 

Uhtred ran a thumb across her temple. “You are a strong woman. Leofric would not have married you otherwise.” 

She pressed her eyes closed. “This is the first night I have laid down and not felt him. His spirit keeps me up at night.”

“He watches over you, is all. I will probably have my throat slit in the night for this.” 

Raia laughed. It was foreign, but it bubbled from her chest. She closed her eyes and took hold of Uhtred’s arm, pretending it was her late husband’s.

“This is the first night I have laid with a woman that was not Iseult,” Uhtred admitted and Raia’s eyes fluttered open. In her grief she’d forgotten she was not the only one to lose somebody. 

“Strange, isn’t it,” she whispered, “how greatly one person can affect our lives.” 

Uhtred drew in a breath, “I loved Iseult, more than I had ever loved any other before her,” and tenderly, slowly, he added, “and that love paled in comparison to Leofric’s love for you.” 

She felt as if he’d reached into her chest and pulled out her heart, but she was grateful he had lent his shoulder to cry on. He wiped at her tears with the pad of his thumb. She had once believed she came second in Leofric’s life, and the words of an outsider looking in proved her wrong.

“Get some sleep,” Uhtred murmured, “you both need rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter killed me.


End file.
